


Who Wore It Better?

by jenofvengerberg



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, DCU (Comics), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Comedy, Crossover, Gen, POV Female Character, Tuxedos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenofvengerberg/pseuds/jenofvengerberg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mistress of magic and gem of the Justice League, Zatanna, decides to expand her audience by taking her magic show to Japan. All goes well until a local hero butts in with his copycat fashion sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Wore It Better?

Oh great, international tours.

If there was one thing that ran Zatanna’s nerves as high as facing the various crises of the month in the multiverse, it was bringing her shows to new countries and audiences. There were too many variables, she figured. She had no idea what her acclaim was in some places around the globe, or whether she’d have enough pull to fill theatres, or whether her style would even work on an audience where she was the foreigner; and it wasn't worth the time, energy, and violation of her moral codes to charm and mind warp audiences into applauding. It was because of all this what when Arnie, her agent and manager and B.F.F., dropped the word “Japan”, Zee was overwhelmed with both the thrill of challenge and the terror of failure. She had heard that the tendency of Tokyo to get flattened by various creatures and nefarious villains rivaled that of Manhattan, which she almost found to be a more intriguing challenge than finding ways of making her show appeal across cultural borders.

“Priorities, Z’anna.” Arnie scolded lightly. “Who knows what kind of punch they pack over there in terms of cataclysms or meta-humans?”

Zatanna just smiled boldly and insisted, “As long as it doesn't have tentacles or won't interfere with my show, I can’t wait to meet whatever they have.”

\--

Surprisingly, everything ran smoothly and without bizarre interruptions from tentacle monsters. The audience was appreciative, and almost like they were trained: gasping and cheering in every spot she’d hoped they would. They loved the bunny-girl stage assistants and completely lost it at the Levitating Tigers routine. _  
_

The only hitch, was, of course, the suspicious blackout during encore followed by maniacal laughter of an unknown voice. Of course. The predictability was already delightful. The lights flared up once again, with a blast of smoke erupting in the thin air above the audience, whom provided more of the oohs and aaahs of suspension of disbelief. From within the smoke emerged a lanky, dead-looking creature. It’s eyes glowed an unearthly green, a gaping pit of dark sitting where a regular mouth might be, swirling and flowing smoke in place of hair or clothing, with the body of a supermodel after befriending a serial killer.

“Mistress of Magic!” the entity screeched, descending towards the stage accompanied by hushed awws from the audience, “Shall you dare test your power and might upon a guardian of the Negaverse,” it declared, “Or shall I spare these people the horror of seeing you fail and take your soul now?”

Really? Was this monster-of-the-day schlock the best they could do in this part of town?

“Oh, honey.” Zee couldn’t help herself from drawling to pass the time while this creature floated in her direction. A little something to keep her paying customers amused. “I do sold-out houses in Vegas and keep the whole strip from being overturned to creeps like you. I have the best exorcists in the world on speed dial. When I want to take a joyride, I waltz across the Multiverse. I have faced creeps, from every one of the Nine Circles, that would make Batman cry. So, for your sake? I really hope your little show-stopper amounts to more than some smoke, mirrors, and B-movie dialogue.”

Just as planned, this riled up her viewers into roars and applause. She allowed herself a brief moment to enjoy the sensation before getting back to business.

“Y- You dare mock me?!” The creature howled, engaging in a nosedive for the last bit of distance between her and the stage. “Try laughing when your precious head is on a pike for all who oppose the power of the Youma to see!”

This new adversary landed on the stage with a hollow woosh. Zee casually waved the fumes of smoke from her face, carefully straightened out her tailcoat, and grinned brightly, “Okay, try it.”

The deathly smoke woman threw her head and shoulders back, drawing in energy for a blood-curdling battle cry, screaming to the very heavens. Was all this theatricality around your attacks normal around here? But, she was reduced to stillness and silence as a single red rose was hurled to the stage, landing upright, sharp as a razor blade. Before Zee could figure out how that was physically possible for someone to accomplish with a flower, the stunt earned a cry from the audience at least as loud as the reaction from the Levitating Tigers routine.

Zee eyeballed the trajectory of this stupid flying flower from nowhere up to the ceiling rafters, spotting a tall, thin figure clad in a tuxedo, top hat and cape. Real original outfit, pal. Now someone would have to go home and change.

She scowled and muttered, “Zach, if this is your idea of a joke, I swear to God, this is not fun—”

“The theatre is a sacred structure of community and art!” The suited guy declared, proceeding to jump from his bird’s eye view, descending slower than what was physically possible and landing with a ballerina’s grace on the stage, between Zatanna and her new, smokey nemesis.

“We are glad to welcome the creativity and ambitions of our overseas friends,” The man in the suit went on, “Their entertainment is inspiring, and here for all to enjoy, but those who would jeopardize the performance and the happiness of the audience by executing selfish schemes must be punished.”

Zatanna just gawked at him, failing to tune out the ridiculous, uproarious applause this chump was getting for his speech.

“Pardon me, ma’am.” Declared the tuxedo-clad jerk, turning to her with the same outrageous decorum “But you seem to be new to the city—”

“I was handling Demi Moore over there just fine, until you rudely interrupted.”

“Yes, well.” He projected uncomfortably, clearing his throat, “But such a striking, heroic maiden in the spotlight, in the midst of a land unknown to her deserves only the best efforts of local peers by her side.”

Good lord, not even J'onn talked like this.

“Um,” she pressed, her tone sweet but very clipped, “Is this some kind of welcoming committee for international Supers or something? It’s really thoughtful, but I’m kind of working right now.”

“Enough!” cried out the Youma woman, at a pitch that sounded like she was going for nails-on-chalkboard on purpose. Ugh. “This day shall be the last day either of you fools challenge the supremacy of the Negaverse! Prepare for oblivion, Tuxedo Mask and friend!”

Tuxedo Mask? Was that seriously the best that naming conventions over here could come up with?

Wailing at a pitch that flirted with the sound barrier, the banshee flourished her arms above her head, conjuring a swelling ball of black smoke accented with silver licks of lightning, then lowered her arms to reach out forwards, releasing the energy with a nasty cackle.

“Reirrab leper krad cigam.” Zee yawned, holding up an energy forcefield with one hand. Upon contact, the black magic dispersed and faded out of sight uselessly. She flourished her free hand with a grin, taking a proud bow for her audience and blowing a kiss. They ate it up, all the while the Youma continued angrily hammering the barrier with her dark attacks. Not such a bad way to recover from a local nutjob stealing her show.

“Oh, my!” Tuxedo Mask cried out, tossing his cape for emphasis, “My friend, you’ll surely be hurt if you choose the lone wolf’s path in this battle! Allow me to assist.”

“Look,” Zee shot back dryly, “That’s a lovely offer, but my contract for this show didn’t really call for any double acts, so—”

But he was already waltzing forward, preparing another razor rose while the beast was distracted by the barrier.

“Sorry, Tux!” Zee boasted, “But this is still my show! Etihw cigam ygrene eslup!”

At her command, the light from her barrier shifted, jumping forward and engulfing the creature, but unfortunately not muffling her cries. As the thing thrashed against the magic force consuming its body, Tuxedo Mask hurled his rose, the sharpened stem landing cleanly between the banshee’s eyes.

“You will rue this day!” it cried, before disintegrating into a fine silver dust on the stage floor.

Zatanna didn’t even have time to toss out a decent quip before the entire house flew to their feet, clapping and cheering with enthusiasm that shook the walls. With another forced grin, she took her bows at centre stage, and for the sake of appearances, pulled her impromptu team-up partner along with her.

“I was not aware that you were familiar with the custom for magical heroines to announce their attacks, Miss Zatara.” Stated Tuxedo Mask, now speaking more subtlety and carefully as they bowed.

“I’m not, actually.” she answered listlessly.

“Quite the happy coincidence, then.” He chuckled, pulling more, hopefully non-super-sharpened roses from his coat to throw into the audience, “Although your personal flair on it is quite unique.”

“The backwards talk, you mean? Yeah, kind of my signature. Makes a great icebreaker at parties. How did you even get past my stage crew in the first place?” With one last pose, curtains rolled back into place, obscuring Zatanna and Tuxedo Mask from the audience’s view.

“If chaos finds a way, so must heroism too.” He replied calmly. “Speaking of which, based on tonight’s reception, you may well find yourself coming back to Tokyo for future recitals.”

Safe from harm and her fans, she finally gave the man a solid once-over. He might’ve been a serious try-hard, but damned if he didn’t give the encore some much-needed oomph. Hell, maybe she could even talk to a few fae and minor demons that owed her family favours and get them in on the gig to give him something to fight. But for now she kept a pokerface,

“Just warn me next time you wanna do a Tuxedo Team-Up, okay?"

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea kicking around, so I decided to throw it together into a silly excuse for a narrative. Tux is seriously so much fun to write, though. His dialogue is already so redonkulous in canon regardless of if you're watching dubbed, subbed or whathaveyou. What I learned writing him is that when I start to think I've done too much, I actually haven't done enough.
> 
> A few helpful notes for Moonie readers who might not be as versed in comics stuff:  
> \- Zach is actually a side-character that shows up now and then, he's Zatanna's less-successful cousin and he is a wonderful dip.  
> \- J'onn is J'onn J'onzz aka Martian Manhunter, another Justice League member. Alien characters sometimes seem to speak English with a lot of excessive formality, hence the observation about how Tux sounds.


End file.
